Return to Yellowstone

by Heath Stallcup

  Jason swallowed hard and stared at the woman staring him down.

  “Perhaps you might take a different tone when speaking to us.”

  Jason nodded nervously and stepped away from her. “I was just saying…you know…that she’d totally wig out if she saw…”

  “I understand what you were trying to say, Mr. Anderson.” Vivian jotted a few more notes, then gave a subtle nod to the tech assisting her. “We’ve analyzed Ms. Wilkes’ blood. There are definitely antibodies in it.”

  She turned to face Jason again and pulled her glasses from her thin nose. “She also carries the virus.” She gave him a moment to process what she said. “She’s a carrier, Mr. Anderson.”

  Jason’s jaw quivered as his eyes shot from person to person in the room. “Wait…what does that mean?”

  “It means that if your girlfriend were to scratch you or bite you hard enough to break the skin, you could become infected, too.”

  His eyes widened even more and he stepped back against the counter. “W-what about kissing…and stuff?”

  Vivian shook her head. “Your body creates its own defense against oral viruses. That’s why you can’t get HIV from drinking after somebody. Same thing here.” She stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t be certain about sexual transmission though.”

  Jason groaned and felt his legs give way beneath him. “We could test your blood as well.”

  His head nodded, but his eyes were locked in a thousand-yard stare.

  “I doubt you’ve been exposed. The transition rate for infection is…minutes.” She shrugged and offered him a weak smile. “But I suppose there is that slight chance you are immune as well.” She shot him a sarcastic smile that he totally missed.

  “Y-yeah. Sure.” He held his arm out to her and she nodded to the tech who helped him to a chair, then prepared to draw blood.

  “As soon as it’s processed, we’ll let you know the results.” Vivian opened to the door and led him back out through the research stations. “In the meantime, you might want to minimize your…physical contact with Ms. Wilkes.”

  Jason nodded nervously as he stumbled out of the laboratory and toward the room he shared with Bren.

  He shut the door behind him and practically collapsed onto his bed. Bren came to his side and he cringed when she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Her eyes searched him as he forced himself to calm down.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head and reached for her. “I just…I really don’t like this place, Bren.” He pulled her close and she felt him trembling. “It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  She snuggled in close and pulled his arm across her to hold her. “I don’t like it, either.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

  Jason forced himself to remain calm. They’d been together numerous times since she was scratched. Dr. LaRue’s words echoed in his mind, “Just like HIV.” He sighed and wrapped his arm tighter around her. “Yes, we should have. This place may not seem like the nicest, but if you really think about it, we’re safer than we’ve ever been. There’s three square meals a day and clean beds to sleep in.” He gave her a soft smile. “Besides, you’re gonna save the human race.”

  Vicky Sue stepped out onto the roof and stared at the landscape. She carried the hot coffee to Henry Willis who stood sentry on the roof with Dennis Wallace. “I bet you’re tuckered out.”

  He gladly accepted the coffee and pulled his coat off. “Nah. Ain’t much a nothin’ right now.” He sipped the coffee and gave her a grateful smile. “I don’t guess you heard from Hatch?”

  She shook her head and glanced toward Wally. “He still swearing off the bean?”

  Henry chuckled. “If Candy keeps us pulling doubles, he’s liable to change his mind.”

  Vicky walked closer to the edge and glanced down at the few bodies roasting in the sun. “They from last night?”

  Henry nodded. “Snuck up on us and we caught them before they could start screeching. Wally dropped them with that silenced .22 of his.” He shook his head. “Man, that thing is whisper quiet.”

  “Too bad he couldn’t make a few more for the bigger rifles.”

  Henry shrugged. “They wouldn’t work as well. The bigger the caliber, the tougher it is to hush ’em up. But that little Ruger of his? That thing is tight!”

  Vicky patted his shoulder. “Maybe we can scrounge up another one for you when we send people out to gather supplies.”

  Henry shrugged again. “Pretty sure we’ve picked it all clean.” He sighed heavily and pointed out toward the northeast. “We gonna have to send trucks out and get outside our comfort zone.”

  Vicky shuddered and pulled her coat tighter. “Gives me the chills just thinking about it.”

  “I know, but there just ain’t much left out there that we can reach on foot.” He tugged gently at her shoulder and walked past Wally to the other side of the flat roof. “See that out there? That green sign?”

  Vicky squinted and could barely make out what he was pointing at. “I think so.”

  He handed her his binoculars and she focused them on the sign. “Oh my…”

  “I’ve been watching it for a couple of weeks now. Nobody has gone near it. At least, not while we’re on watch.” He took the field glasses back and pulled her to the side. “And that worries me, too.”

  “Why would it worry you? An untouched grocery store? They could have all kinds of canned food, diapers, formula…toilet paper!”

  He nodded. “Yeah, they could. The glass front is all intact, no Zulus running around the place, no vehicles…but think about that.” He paused and gave her a chance to connect the dots. “That could also mean that we’re the only uninfected in town.”

  The words struck like a blow and her hand automatically went to her mouth as she stifled a gasp. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  Henry nodded slowly. “As much as it would help us out, the idea that nobody else in town has survived this?”

  She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I don’t even want to think about that.” She turned and stared at the fuzzy green sign across town. “Have you mentioned it to Candy? Our supplies are getting dangerously low.”

  He nodded. “I did, but she said we have a possible bigger threat coming our way. The bikers that Hatch ran into. She thinks they could be working their way here.”

  “All the more reason to hit that place now.” She had to fight to keep her voice low. “If they do show up, and if they find it first? They’d pick it clean and we’d be left…”

  Henry nodded. “Stuck with our dicks in our hands.”

  Vicky gave him a confused smile. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “So maybe you can convince her.” He pulled her back toward the door. “If we put a skeleton crew on watch, send every abled body, we could strip that place and have everything we need loaded in no time. Use a couple of our best shooters to keep an eye on those working…we could do this.”

  Vicky nodded, her mind seeing the activity in her head. She turned and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll convince her that this needs to happen.”

  Henry broke into a toothy grin. “If anybody can do it, I know it’s you.”

  He watched her walk away and not for the first time since Hatcher left, wished the man was still here. He would listen to reason.

  Chapter 9

  Hatcher stepped from the chopper and watched as the soldiers worked in a flurry of activity. A truck met the craft just as the wheels set down and soldiers took a defensive perimeter while techs worked at refueling the bird.

  He tried to stay behind their defensive wall, but his eyes took in the carnage that was once a military base. Makeshift blockades and chain link fences were erected around a portion of the buildings. Bodies could be seen hanging from razor wire and buzzards circled the dead.

  He approached Hollis, who was talking over a radio. The man had just r
eturned the mic when he turned and eyed Hatcher. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The damage that unarmed infected can wreak against those who are well-trained and well-armed.”

  Hatcher nodded. “Force in numbers.”

  “Exactly.” Hollis glanced at his watch and tapped it. “We’ve only got a few minutes. If you need to hit the latrine…”

  Hatcher shook his head. “I’m good. But I’m curious.”

  “About?”

  He turned and pointed to the makeshift blockades. “Where’s the patrols?”

  Hollis grinned and turned Hatcher to look at the two buildings on either side. “Instead of being on the ground and risking their troops, they stack them in those windows. They can snipe anything that gets close without fear of being bit.”

  Hatcher had to squint in the sunlight, but he could just make out shadows and barrels in the windows. “So, there are no roving patrols?”

  Hollis shook his head. “They can see out hundreds of yards from their positions. And anything on the ground might actually attract the infected.” He pointed to the other blocked areas. “They put shooters in the buildings. The highest positions cover up to 500 yards out. Each floor covers their own areas. Although the infected might seem pretty stupid, they quickly figure out where they can and can’t go without getting themselves dead.”

  Hatcher turned and gave him a curious look. “They know to steer clear because of the fear of death?”

  Hollis nodded. “It appears so.”

  Hatcher turned back to the secure areas and shook his head. “They’ve gotten smarter.”

  “How’s that? Even a rabid dog knows to avoid places that will get it shot.”

  “They didn’t use to be so cautious. I watched them storm armed troops and…” his mind flashed back to the fight Mitch Richardson had with the crazy naked lady. She showed no fear, even after Mitch had sliced and diced her. “This just seems out of sorts for what I experienced.”

  “Even old dogs can be taught new tricks.” Hollis turned his attention back to the techs who were pulling their equipment back. “We good?”

  He got a thumb’s up from the chief and he keyed his coms. “Load ’em up boys. We’re on the move.”

  Hatcher hesitated before taking his seat back on the chopper. His eyes told him that Hollis was right, but his mind was having trouble accepting it. He remembered that first night almost too vividly.

  He had seen somewhat normal people do things he still had trouble accepting. The thought that those same people could now understand basic concepts like ‘safe place’ or ‘death’ escaped him.

  He reluctantly took his seat and strapped in, but his mind was still in Yellowstone. Blood and gore splattered across every surface as the virus tore through the crowds. He watched people go from screaming in fear and pain to screaming before they attacked their best friend, their spouse, their own kids…

  He shook his head and forced himself back to the here and now. Hollis was waving a hand to get his attention. He pointed to the headphones and Hatcher nodded, pulling them back on and adjusting the mouthpiece.

  “I was supposed to brief you when we stopped for fuel.” He gave him an innocent smile. “Sorry I got sidetracked.”

  Hatcher nodded. “It’s okay. We can go over it the next time we stop.”

  Hollis shook his head. “The next stop is the park. We’re hitting the ground running so…” He pulled the map out and handed it to Hatcher. “We’ll go over it now. You need to be ready to go the moment we touch terra firma.”

  Squirrel slowed the bike and cast a quick glance around the area before pulling into the mini-mart. He shut off the engine and strained his ears to listen for sounds of approaching infected or screams that might indicate they had been spotted. The roar of Slug’s Harley, however, essentially covered any sounds he might have detected.

  Once the Harley was shut down, Squirrel stepped away from the two machines and cupped his hands to his ears. He felt it was safe to continue and took a tentative step toward the front of the store.

  “We really gonna do this? Simon has scroungers that do this shit all the time.”

  Squirrel stiffened. “Wouldn’t you like to get your hands on any beer that wasn’t pilfered before the scroungers scoop it up?” He turned and gave the man a wicked smile. “I would think you’d like the opportunity to pick your favorite brand and decide for yourself how much was enough.”

  Slug’s eyes widened, and he quickly jumped from the bike. “Yeah. That sounds like a hell of an idea.” He pushed past Squirrel and marched toward the mini-mart. “I just hope there’s still some left.”

  Squirrel sighed and fell into step behind him.

  The front doors had been broken and money was scattered across the floor of the darkened store. Trash was scattered everywhere and most of the food stuff was missing. He could hear Slug slamming things in the back of the store and cursing under his breath.

  Squirrel moved to the rear of the counter and tried a door. It was locked. A quick check with his shoulder and it gave way. He pulled his lighter and flicked it on. Cleaning supplies.

  He turned and made his way to the other side of the store and noted the door to the dry goods storage was kicked open. A quick search indicated the place had been picked clean.

  “Not even a stray bottle in the walk-in.” Slug slapped at the top of a shelf and stormed passed him.

  “There are other places we can check.”

  “And they’ll be picked clean, too.” Slug paused at his bike and stared off into the distance. He blinked twice and squinted against his sunglasses. Slowly, he pulled them off and Squirrel noted his head turning slightly to the side.

  “What’s up?”

  “Man, I could have sworn I saw flashes on that hill. Like somebody was using a mirror to signal us.”

  Squirrel followed his pointing hand and saw nothing.

  “A reflection off trash?”

  Slug’s head shook slightly. “No way, man. This was like…”

  A scream behind them sent both men into defensive mode. Pistols were pulled and both men squatted low, scanning the area behind them. Slug spotted the ragers running toward them, the lead attacker practically running on all fours.

  “Fuck, man, they’re closing fast.” Slug ran to his Harley and flipped the kickstand up while simultaneously hitting the starter button. The old Harley coughed, farted, and belched, but refused to turn over.

  Squirrel hopped onto the Indian and his engine roared to life with the first turn.

  “Don’t you leave me, man!” Slug mashed the starter button harder, his jaw clenched so tight that his molars should have cracked.

  “Get on! Now, dammit!” Squirrel revved his engine, but Slug continued to try starting his own ride. He continuously turned his head over his shoulder gauging how close the ragers were.

  “Don’t be stupid, Slug! Get on the fuckin’ bike!” Squirrel realized the man was too stupid to realize they could come back for the bike and kicked his Indian into gear.

  He couldn’t hear Slug’s screaming as he revved the engine and spun the bike around, leaving a black semi-circle on the pavement as he spun around the charged head first into the oncoming ragers. He goosed the throttle and tried to lift the heavy cruiser into a wheelie, but it was simply too heavy. Instead, he pulled his pistol and began firing into the small crowd, hoping they had the sense to scatter.

  He kicked down on the rear brake and spun the ass end of the bike around, knocking the lead attacker down and nearly laying the huge motorcycle on its side. He goosed the throttle again and shot off to the left of the crowd. He hugged the tank when he saw a rager launch herself toward him and he felt something tear at his leather jacket as she sailed over him.

  He barely caught a glimpse of Slug tearing away from the parking lot, leaving him to deal with the ragers on his own. He knew the man was a coward, but he didn’t think he’d bail on him in a situation like this.

  H
e goosed the bike and turned toward the same street that Slug had left on. He opened her up and went through his gears as fast as the bike could rev. He found himself taking the curves too quickly, but he was determined to catch up to Slug.

  The black and white Harley came into view and Squirrel let off the gas. He was still catching up to the coward, but he wanted to do it safely. He considered using his pistol and bringing the bastard to a fateful finish, but decided to humiliate him a bit first. As he came alongside Slug, he shot his foot out and kicked him off balance. The Harley waggled on the road while Slug tried to regain control, but quickly flipped to its side, sending its rider sprawling.

  Squirrel shut down the Indian and stepped toward the slow-moving Slug as he tried to recover from what should have been a bad case of road rash. He pushed himself over and found Squirrel standing over him, his pistol pointed directly at his face.

  “What the fuck, man?” Slug squinted against the sun as he stared up at the larger man.

  “I knew you were a coward, but I never would have thought you’d haul ass on me in a situation like that.” He leaned closer and used his free hand to protect his eyes from the blowback he knew would come from such a close shot.

  “Hold on, man! I thought you baled on me. You peeled out and just fuckin’ left me!”

  Squirrel’s face grimaced as he knelt over the man. “Bullshit. You saw me turn and ride into the ragers. The only reason you’re still breathing is because of me. And then you hauled ass in the opposite direction.”

  Slug’s head shook violently side to side. “No way, man. I never saw you go into the crowd! I swear to god!” He swallowed hard and held a hand up, trying in vain to somehow block the bullet that would smear his brain matter across the pavement. “I was just trying to save my own skin!”

  Squirrel clenched his teeth and glared at the coward sprawled on the ground. “No shit.”

  He came to his feet and holstered the weapon. “You ever pull a fuckin’ stunt like that on me again…I’ll finish this.”